<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Growing Pains by NikaylaSarae</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24812860">Growing Pains</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikaylaSarae/pseuds/NikaylaSarae'>NikaylaSarae</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aches and pains, Growing Pains, Hurt/Comfort, Wing!AU, death talk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:14:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,104</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24812860</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikaylaSarae/pseuds/NikaylaSarae</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For the past year Logan has been fighting to keep a part of himself hidden. Only now, thanks to Roman, he’s been compromised.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>135</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Cross-posted with minor edits from my Tumblr account @stillebesat.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Logan staggered through the door of his apartment and collapsed in the entryway with a groan of agony. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His backpack slipped from his aching back as he curled up, pressing his head into his knees, trying to breathe as fire ran across his shoulder blades. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No. No. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He gritted his teeth, fingernails digging deep crescents into his palms as he kicked at the door to shut it. No one needed to see him like this. It wasn’t Grund behavior to show pain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately, </span>
  <em>
    <span>normal </span>
  </em>
  <span>Grunds didn’t have to deal with this...this burning ache that he hadn’t been able to fully get rid of since he’d hit maturity over a year ago. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I am Grund. Knowledge. Reason. Wisdom. Logic. I am Grund. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He chanted silently, muffling another cry as his back again spasmed in protest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was Grund. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing else. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Why couldn’t his body just...just believe what his mind already knew? For once, why couldn’t Mental win in the fight against Physical?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan moaned, struggling to relax his clenched fists. He just...just had to make it into the bathroom. A cold shower, that would help. The burning in his shoulders always faded after being confronted with the cold. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He swallowed hard, ignoring the dryness of his throat as he shakily lifted his head. He had to get out of the entryway. Move. Roman would be coming back home from his flying class within the hour and Logan did not want to have him see him like this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Having to deal with the Traumer and his overly expressive fluttering wings on top of this pain would only make the burning worse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan gritted his teeth, struggling to breathe deeply and evenly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t seem possible, but it felt like Roman’s wings actively called out to the ones Logan never wanted to have emerge from his back, making his shoulders throb with more intensity than before whenever the Traumer was present</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to go away though. Give it enough time without the wings emerging and the Traumer blood flowing through his veins would have to subside, would have to allow his Grund blood to take full control. With enough time, he’d be able to be just like his Dads and stepbrother and nothing like his Mom. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shakily pushing himself onto hands and knees, Logan nearly made it to his feet before another spasm sent him back to the floor, biting back a scream. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Stop! </span>
  </em>
  <span>He wanted nothing to do with his Mother. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nothing.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He. Was. Grund.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He clutched at his chest, feeling his racing heart against his palm as he inched along the wall to the bathroom. Cold water. That would help. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was about as much help as he could get with the Traumer as his newest roommate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Originally, living with his fellow Grunds and then the two Leidenschafts, Patton and Virgil, hadn’t affected him much after he’d reached maturity. Well...beyond finding the odd scale here and there. Plus there was that increase of humidity that threatened to warp his books along with the apartment smelling more often of ocean water and fish and... okay, it wasn’t a perfect situation with the Leidenschafts compared to when he had had only Grund roommates, but it’d been tolerable. The ache in his shoulders had been a minor nuisance, barely worth noticing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Until Roman had moved in that is. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d been caught off guard when the loud and vocal Traumer with his bright golden wings had strolled into the apartment like he owned the place. Thankfully, Logan had already been seated otherwise he would have collapsed then and there to the floor in agony because his back had reacted liked he’d been kicked with steel-toed boots. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan had barely managed to keep his pain hidden from the others. To not have them suspect anything was wrong.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately, it hadn’t been a one time reaction. No, the burning in his back had only increased in intensity after that. Even though he’d done his best to keep his distance from the Traumer since then. Only ever coming into the same room with Roman if the other two were present to act as a buffer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A couple of months had passed before he had noticed that he was....changing.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had started small. Being hungrier than normal. Wanting to sit outside on his small balcony in the fresh air a bit more often. Looking up at the stars with a bit more interest. </span>
</p>
<p><span>Logan had chalked the sudden increase in hunger to being around the Leidenschafts. They were constantly munching on something to keep their energy levels up. So it made sense that he’d be polite and partake of their sustenance whenever they offered to share with him. </span><span><br/></span> <span>It made sense for him to duck out onto the balcony more often as well. Not only to avoid Roman and his obnoxious singing, but with so much water in the Leidenschafts’ rooms, the salty scent could become overpowering at times.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>It had even made sense to him when Logan had realized his facial features and tonal voice were becoming a bit more...expressive if he didn’t keep himself sharply focused on remaining only logically involved in any given situation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d thought it was from being around such emotional people. Had wanted to believe that it was from being around them and nothing more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan moaned, twisting to shove his back against the wall, pressing his shoulder blades against it as hard as he could halfway down the hallway. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stay. Just stay in. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He didn’t want the wings. He didn’t want to be Traumer! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He. Was. Grund. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yet it was hard to ignore that other side of himself whenever he looked in the mirror. To not see that every day he was taking on more and more of the Traumer characteristics. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d grown taller, leaner, and more muscular despite his efforts to hold to the Grund regimens. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now, if he wasn’t careful, he could easily look the others in the eyes without needing to crane his neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No true Grund should be able to do that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Traitorous tears trailed down his cheeks. Tears. Logan brushed at them roughly with a balled fist, forcing himself to continue down the hallway an agonizing inch at a time. Grunds didn’t cry. Didn’t show emotions. There was a reason why the other races compared them to history books; full of knowledge and not much else.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d hoped things would return to normal for him when the other three moved home for the summer semester. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only Roman had surprised him by choosing to stay. And now without the Leidenschafts there to act as a buffer-- </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan steeled himself, pushing to his knees so he could grab at the bathroom handle.  It opened only a crack before his fingers slipped, another spasm forcing him curl once more upon himself, gasping for breath. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Stay.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He hissed through gritted teeth. So close. He just needed to get inside, crawl into the tub...he could dry his clothes later if--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The front door opened with a bang. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m Hoooommmeee!!” Roman cheerly sang out. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>His heart stopped. NO.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Roman couldn’t--he couldn’t see him like this!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan surged to his feet, scrambling to grab the handle to get inside. Hide. He had to--the door swung open as another painful wave washed through his back, collapsing him to the bathroom floor with a muffled cry. </span>
  <em>
    <span>STOP. Stupid things. HE WAS GRUND!!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Logan?” Roman asked, his voice growing closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nononono. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan dug his fingers into the tile, shoulders throbbing in response to the rustle of the Traumer’s wings as he tried to find the strength to stand up, to draw his legs away from the hallway so Roman couldn’t see him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>GO AWAY!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> He called out, voice cracking as lightning shot down his back. He rolled, shoving his shoulders against the side of the tub, trying to douse the fire burning there with the cool porcelain. He had to--to--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A gasp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked up into Roman’s surprised face, heart sinking. Too late. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Traumer darted forward, wings snapping shut as he slid on his knees across the floor to reach him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan flinched away from Roman’s too warm hand. He couldn’t have him here. Not with those golden wings so near. Not with his back acting up like this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Leave.” He ground out, fighting to keep his voice steady and calm. HE WAS GRUND. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you crazy?” Roman demanded, wingtips fluttering. “I’m not leaving you when you’re---I didn’t think Grunds could get sick! Lo, what’s wrong?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Logan.” He automatically corrected, biting off a gasp as he fought to not curl in on himself. You didn’t shorten a Grund’s name. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Logan.” Roman repeated impatiently, his wings sending a gust of cool air to Logan’s sweat dampened face as he again touched his arm. “Let me help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And have him near for one second longer? He pulled away. “No!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Traumer exhaled, frowning down at him. “Stubborn.” He said resting his hand on Logan’s forehead, his calloused fingers running over the raised bumps there that marked all Grund who’d reached maturity. “You have a fever.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Did not. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He was fine! He was--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Roman’s feathers brushed his arms sending an electric jolt through his body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan jerked, banging his head against the tub. He yelped, back arching as he twisted, trying to shove his shoulder blades against the cool tile. They didn’t sit as flat as they used to. He could feel the points that weren’t there before. “L-leave.” He gasped out, vision blurring with tears. Before it was too late. “Pl...please.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It hurt. To beg. But he couldn’t have the Traumer here. Not when it felt like Roman’s wings were calling to his own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t Traumer. HE WAS GRUND! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Knowledge. Reason. Wisdom. Logic. GRUND!</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yes, I’m just gonna turn around and leave my roommate curled up on the bathroom floor, practically dying.” Roman retorted, wings mantling over him as he pulled Logan’s resisting form upright. “What kind of friend do you take me--” His fingers brushed Logan’s back, going over the tender points on his shoulder blades.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan shrieked, a sound he hadn’t know he could make, and twisted away from the painful touch, betraying tears trailing down his cheeks. Nonononono. “DONT TOUCH ME!” He cried as Roman inhaled sharply, eyes going wide as he roughly spun him around to see his back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He jerked in his roommate's grip. “DON’T!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Too late. Logan winced as he heard his shirt tear, the fabric falling down to rest around his wrists as a cool breeze sent a shiver down his aching spine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Again the Traumer’s too warm fingers lightly touched the burning points. “Loga--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s Nothi--” He tried to pull free but found himself shoving backwards into Roman’s chest instead as his back again twinged, desperately pressing his shoulder blades against his roommate to get the points to go back down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Roman grunted, wrapping his arms around Logan to keep him in place before he could move away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh no. </span>
  </em>
  <span>His heart stuttered as his breathing hitched. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Let go!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He demanded, voice cracking, the soft golden feathers pressing against his skin sending an unwelcome wave of warmth washing through him to burn like the sun along his back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bad idea. Bad. Idea! Logan twisted in his roommate’s arms, desperate to free himself. “LET GO!”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Roman cut him off as he easily pushed to his feet, pulling Logan up with him, his golden wings wrapping tightly around him like a feathered blanket.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan choked off a sob, kicking at the air. “Roman!” He had to let go! Before it was too late. Before the wings were triggered further. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “You. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Idiot.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” The Traumer growled, voice shaking with suppressed rage as his long legs carried them into the living room. With one foot he upended the coffee table, sending it flying into their couch as his roommate placed him down in the center of the floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How long?” He demanded, forcing Logan to his stomach, leaving his exposed back facing the ceiling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nononono! He needed pressure on his shoulders! Logan shook his head, trying to roll to his back to keep the bumps from growing any larger. “I-I do-on’t--” He stuttered</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Roman tightened his hold just above the points, keeping him firmly on his stomach. “Don’t play dumb.” He hissed, golden wings spreading wide over them. “It really doesn’t suit you. How long?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan shook his head, drumming his feet against the carpet, fighting to push the Traumer off of him. It didn’t matter. He was Grund! He wasn’t Traumer. Would NEVER be Traumer. “This ca-can’t--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“HOW LONG!” Roman roared, wings dropping to brush Logan’s back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He cried out, his skin burning under the touch. “Oh-Over a y-year.” He gasped out. “I’m not...not… I AM GRUND!!!” He yelled back. “ONLY GRU--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You. Are. Traumer.” Roman snapped, voice cool as ice. “And you’re going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>DIE </span>
  </em>
  <span>if you don’t let your wings emerge, Logan! You want that Oh Seeker of Logic and Knowledge and whatever? You think you can still learn things if you’re DEAD?” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Dead? </span>
  </em>
  <span>No. He couldn’t die because of this. Logan sobbed, shaking his head, going limp. “It...it will go away.” Just give it enough time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Traumer scoffed. “That’s the craziest--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’M GRUND!!!” Logan again yelled. “I can’t...can’t….” A whimper escaped him as Roman went still.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A puff of air ghosted along his neck. “You can’t what?” Roman asked, relaxing his iron grip. “Be part Traumer? Tough luck. You are. I know the freaking signs, Lo.” His wings flapped for emphasis. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan shuddered, closing his eyes, failing to keep the betraying tears contained. “I’m can’t be! I’m not--.” He again tried to twist to his back and failed. “I’m not her! I can’t...be--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Be?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan dug his fingers into the carpet. “Like….my Mom.” He whispered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your Mom? She was Traumer? How--” Roman shifted his weight. “You hate her that much to risk killing yourself?” His fingers were gentle as they massaged Logan’s shoulder blades. “It’s not like the wings will make you...well not you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan twitched, his breath hitching as the pressure in his back increased.“Y-you don’t know that.” The apple never fell far from the tree the saying went.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Roman huffed out a laugh. “Unless your Mom’s the Dragon Witch I don’t thi--” He cut off as Logan stiffened, hunching his shoulders. “Your Mom--” He breathed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Trust the Traumer to hit the nail on the head on the ONE thing Logan had kept secret since he and his Dad had fled for their lives. “Yes.” He choked out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dragon Witch.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wasn’t that clear? “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Roman had to understand now. Had to let him suppress the wings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh...kay. I...gah.” His roommate relaxed his grip, his golden wings fluttering as they lowered. “Dude that’s…” He exhaled. “Just because---she...well is all crazy evil and such, doesn’t mean you’ll be just like her because you’re getting wings too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan shuddered. “Y-you don’t know that.” His mom hadn’t appeared crazy in the beginning either. He’d been almost six when she’d snapped. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re right. I don’t. But I know you.” Roman leaned over to look Logan in the eyes, his wings half spreading to help him keep his balance. “You’re mule-headed and persistent enough that if you don’t want something to happen. It won’t.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan made a face. “I don’t--” He gasped, arching his back as his shoulders throbbed. “Want the wings.” He managed to get out, his voice so small and scared compared to his usual tone. He hated it. Again he twisted trying to roll to his side to put pressure on the burning points on his shoulders, but the Traumer kept him firmly on his stomach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, Specs.” Roman offered him a sympathetic smile when Logan shakily looked up, sweat dripping down his forehead. “I’m sorry, but that’s one thing you’re not getting. Not if you want to live.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan flinched. There was far too much knowledge in the world he hadn’t discovered yet. He...he didn’t want to miss it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See?” Roman’s wings reached out to brushing his shoulders, the soft touch like lightning to his sensitive skin. “You do want to live right?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan hissed in agony, jerking to pull free, but Roman had once again tightened his grip. He wanted to live yes, but he didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be Traumer! HE WAS GRUND! “S-stop tou-touching me with tho-those!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No can do, buckaroo.” The golden feathers fluttered in silent encouragement. “You just need to relax. Breathe.” Roman soothed. “Having your wings emerge is gonna hurt like crazy--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that was supposed to help him </span>
  <em>
    <span>relax?!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I’m here and you can bet your Grund half that I won’t leave. I’ll show you all the ropes.” He gave a soft chuckle, massaging Logan’s shoulders. “Teach you to be just like me if you want.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Be like...Roman? The thought was ludicrous. The Traumer was boisterous, confident, expressive. Logan couldn’t imagine...imagine being anything like that.  “B-be you?” Logan took his first deep breath in ages, fighting to not laugh. Laughing wasn’t...wasn’t Grund. “That’s...That’s--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, alright. I’ll cut you off there before you insult me, Specs. But hey, at least you’re not alone in this. I’ll be right here to help you navigate the ins and outs of suddenly having new limbs.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Logan swallowed, forcing his shaking hands to relax. That was true. The Traumer was a...a role model of sorts. Better than his...his mom at least. There was no question ther--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Twin blades of agony slammed into his back like an axe chopping at a tree. Logan convulsed, throwing Roman off of him as an unholy scream tore from his throat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh. OH CROFTERS! With every heartbeat it felt like his spine was splitting in two. He was dying. This was death. He should never have--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Logan. Logan! I’m here buddy.” Roman’s voice cut through his screams as he grabbed his wrists. “I’m here. I got you--oomph.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan dug his toes into the carpet and surged forward, slamming into his roommate. It was illogical, to want to run from the pain, but he-he couldn’t--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Confident arms wrapped around him, pulling him close. “I’m here. I’m here.” Roman repeated as Logan buried his head against the Traumer’s chest, muffling the screams he couldn’t seem to stop. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“ST--OP. STO---OOP!” He dug his fingers into Roman’s shirt, writhing in his roommate’s arms as the fiery points sprouting from his back went supernova. He was dying. He was going to die. The wings were going to kill him! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It will, Lo, buddy. It will. Just hang on. Hang on.” Roman soothed in his ear, using one hand to massage his neck as he held him with the other. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hang on? To what? To Roman? How could holding him help? “N-NO-NO!! HURTS.” Nothing would help this! He shouldn’t have listened to his roommate. This pain wasn’t worth it. It wasn--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know it hurts. I’m sorry. I wish--just--I’m here. Okay? I’m here. You’re gonna be fine.” Roman said, humming a soft tune as he kept Logan steady in his arms, holding him so his back remained exposed to the open air, allowing the wings to grow without interference.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“N-NoAAHHHHH!” Nothing was fine. It was all torturous pain. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>never going to end</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>dying. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” Roman said gently but firmly as Logan tried to inhale, to breathe, only to scream his lungs out as the next burning wave washed through him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How could the Traumer be so confident? How did any Traumer survive </span>
  <em>
    <span>this?! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan closed his tear filled eyes, chest heaving as a tingling sensation, like a thousand tiny pinpricks from cactus thorns dug into his skull, quickly increasing in strength until it felt like someone was taking a wrecking ball to his frontal lobe, forcefully creating space as a new series of sensations began to flow through him. Sensations that came not from his arms….but...but from his back. From….the emerging wings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The massaging of his neck paused as Roman shifted his hand to card through his hair, rubbing at his temples. “Your brain feeling like an army of ants crawling through it?” He asked, keeping his tone conversational. “That’s how it felt for me at least.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An--ants? That...that wasn’t-- “MMMPPHHH.” He drummed his feet against the carpet as another surge of growth emanated from his back, causing an increase in the hammering in his skull.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not close hmmm?” Roman mused, slowly rocking him. “Is it more like that tingly feeling you feel when your leg falls asleep?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan shook his head, fighting to silence another shriek. N-no. Not like that at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well then how about---” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Traumer continued to talk, keeping a mostly one-sided conversation going for what felt like an eternity to Logan. It was an impossibility, he knew. But it felt like an eternity as he convulsed again and again as his--the wings steadily grew.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wings...wings like his Mom’s. Wings that he’d never wanted. Still didn’t want. What would he do now that they were coming out? How could he be GRUND if he had...had these extra limbs. How could he--- </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Roman had switched to humming snatches of show tunes at some point, the soft sound buzzing in his ears, distracting Logan’s spiraling mind as his now voiceless screams died out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He went limp, the burning fire in his back vanishing and leaving only a dull ache behind...as his….as...the wings fully spread out, the tips resting on the carpet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan shivered, keeping his eyes firmly shut, breath hitching. This was it. This was...it was done. The wings were out and there was no getting them to go away. A hoarse whimper escaped him as Roman shifted under him. His new limbs twitched in the slightest of flutters, the raw sensation jarring to his aching head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A low whistle rang in his ears. “I can’t believe you held these in for a year.” Roman said, lightly running his fingers along the edge of his wings. “They’re beautiful, Lo. I can’t wait to see them when the feathers dry.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan tensed, the wings lifting an inch or two before collapsing back to the floor. Beautiful? How could these scaly things be--his heart skipped a beat. “F-feathers?” He whispered, his throat sore from screaming. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It couldn’t be. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He slowly opened his eyes. “There’s...feathers?” He asked, reluctant to turn his head from Roman’s damp shirt. He had to have misheard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, yah, Specs. What other kind of wings would---” He cut off as Logan flinched. “Oh. OH! No! Logan.” Roman squeezed him tighter. “They’re not...not scaled.” </span>
</p>
<p><span>Not?</span> <span>His wings fluttered again. “They’re--they’re---” Logan couldn’t get the words out past the lump in his throat. No. His mother didn’t have feathered wings despite her being Traumer. He couldn’t...he shouldn’t have them either! </span></p>
<p>
  <span>“Feathered.” Roman relaxed his grip. “I wouldn’t--On my honor, Lo. You have feathered wings.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Feathers. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Heart pounding in his ears, Logan twisted his head before he could convince himself not to look, shakily pushing away from Roman’s chest to better see the limbs sprouting from his back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His breath caught, staring down at the glimmering black wings that spread out on either side of him. They were...they weren’t a gaudy Traumer color like his roommates, instead remaining the same shade as his hair. They weren’t---he reached a trembling finger to brush the damp wings. Goosebumps rose on his arms as he registered his own touch. He spread his hand, fingers carding through the soft plumage. Feathers. Not scales.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Feathers</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The wings fluttered again, lifting a little higher as Roman’s own wings stretched out to touch them, gold brushing against black. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They weren’t-- “They aren’t hers.” Logan breathed, looking up at his roommate with wide eyes. Feathers. He had feathers! Not--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Roman nodded, a small smile playing on his lips as he winked. “Looks like you get to be more like me after all, Specs.” He teased.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logan relaxed, a hoarse laugh escaping him as he rested his head back against the Traumer’s chest, shivering as his roommate ran his fingers through his damp hair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Be more like Roman? Still ludicrous. But with the feathers...maybe...maybe it wouldn’t be so...so bad---the wings...he would need to learn to care for them somehow. Learn to use them. Why not have it be Roman teaching him? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose so.” He agreed, hesitantly reaching out to touch his wings, again confirming the feathers were real. “I suppose so.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>